Fun fact: it’s not just Victor Noir’s bulge that’s magic (a lot of them are!)
If you happen to be in Paris this summer, and are not having enough sex, or are trying to get married, have a baby, or solve any number of other fertility/sex problems, may I suggest rubbing the crotchal-area of a dead French journalist?
“Victor Noir is more famous for his death and his grave than for his life. He was a journalist who was shot dead. To mark his grave, a bronze statue of the man lying down as if just shot was erected. This statue has since become something of a fertility symbol.
Due to the naturalistic style of the sculpture there is a fold in Noir’s trousers which make him appear to be aroused. Myth says that placing a flower in the top hat after kissing the statue on the lips and rubbing its genital area will enhance fertility, bring a blissful sex life, or, in some versions, a husband within the year.”
A+ on that “erected” wordplay. You can clearly see where crowds of people (evidently they’re primarily ladies) have rubbed that bulge to a high polish, in hopes of getting their sexual wishes granted.
It seems ironic that Mr. Noir (not his real name) should attain such notoriety for his tomb, when his life was actually rather fascinating as well: born to Jewish parents, he converted to Catholicism, took an apprenticeship as a journalist, and was sent to duel by his employer during a dispute with a rival news publication:
“Contrary to custom, they presented themselves to Prince Bonaparte instead of contacting his seconds. Each of them carried a revolver in his pocket. Noir and de Fonvieille presented Prince Bonaparte with a letter signed by Grousset. But the prince declined the challenge, asserting his willingness to fight his fellow nobleman Rochefort, but not his “menials” (ses manœuvres). In response, Noir asserted his solidarity with his friends. According to Fonvieille, Prince Bonaparte then slapped his face and shot Noir dead. According to the Prince, it was Noir who took umbrage at the epithet and struck him first, whereupon he drew his revolver and fired at his aggressor. That was the version eventually accepted by the court.”
I’m not sure I’ve ever had a job that I’d let send me into a duel with revolvers, but I’m not against the idea of a bulgy monument once I’m gone. Especially if strangers are gonna come and rub it shiny.